


Don't think I won't

by greedy_dancer



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Beads, M/M, No Spoilers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 23:04:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3627630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greedy_dancer/pseuds/greedy_dancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It's just that sometimes, Mickey thought about these- things. Like, fucking fantasies and shit, stuff he saw in porn, stuff that he thought maybe he wanted to try. With Ian. </i>
</p>
<p>Set post S4, no spoilers for S5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't think I won't

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fuluoliang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuluoliang/gifts).



> This has been trying to be a “5 times Mickey gets Ian to do something new in bed” fic for a while - Mickey just whipping out those beads, you know? - but it’s not cooperating, so here's where it's at right now. I'm hoping if inspiration ever strikes again, I can post the rest as a series! 
> 
> Thanks to Slownight for looking it over!

For all that he was supposedly out and proud and everything, Ian was surprisingly tame in the sack.

It wasn't, like, boring or anything, fuck no. He fucked Mickey strong and steady, finding that angle like a fucking guided missile, pounding until Mickey blew his load and lost his mind. No complaints there; getting fucked by Ian was miles better than anything Mickey had ever done with chicks.

It's just that sometimes, Mickey thought about these- things. Like, fucking fantasies and shit, stuff he saw in porn, stuff that he thought maybe he wanted to try. With Ian.

But it was like whenever he and Ian got started, some fucking time-lapse shit happened and when Mickey caught his breath, he was already bent over and split open and two seconds away from coming.

Plus, he remembered when happened the first time Mickey brought out the beads. They never talked about it, but Ian had probably developed like, sextoys-induced trauma or some shit.

Eh. All that meant was that Mickey would have to play it smooth. He'd got pretty good at getting what he wanted from Ian anyway. 

*

It was just as amazing as he thought it would be when he ordered the stuff from the net, hopefully hidden amongst all the random bullshit he bought courtesy of M. John R. Buckley’s stolen credit card. 

He'd made sure to blow Ian first, knowing there would be a couple minutes between his first load and round two when he could get Ian interested, but not _interested_ enough that he could get back to fucking Mickey right away.

Well, congratu-fucking-lations, Mickey was clearly a genius. He was on his knees and elbows, ass up in the way that used to make him so self-conscious – there was always a couple seconds when he worried about what kind of view Ian was getting back there, at least until Ian got a couple fingers up inside and short-circuited that train of thought. 

He’d kinda thought, from the porn he'd seen, that getting the beads _out_ would be the fun part, but Ian had barely pushed the first couple inside and Mickey was already overheating. 

It was insane; the feeling of being opened and stretched around something was familiar, but then there was none of the friction that usually came with Ian's dick inside of him. There was just the stretch and then a sort of heaviness inside, and it felt like the worst kind of tease, being so full and still so fucking empty. 

Mickey gripped the sheets as Ian started pushing in the next bead, feeling how his hole was opening around it. He clenched, just to see what it would feel like, and he felt the bead come back out a little, and then the slightest resistance where Ian's hand was holding it steady. Mickey relaxed again, and Ian pushed a tiny bit, and the bead went right in, easy as that. It felt so fucking dirty. It felt fucking amazing. 

“Fuck, Mickey,” Ian breathed behind him, and then there was a finger touching his hole, slipping in all the lube Ian was using, prodding gently where Mickey knew the string had to be coming out of him. 

Ian kept touching him there, soft like a tickle, and it was making Mickey’s insides clench around the beads inside of him. He couldn’t stay still anymore, so he shifted a bit, and two things happened at once: Ian's finger started going in and the beads inside shifted. 

It was like a button had been pressed; suddenly Mickey was on fucking fire, his dick throbbing between his legs and his skin burning like he had a fever. He could feel sweat running down the side of his face. He couldn't breathe right.

“Jesus fucking fuck, Gallagher,” he gritted out. “You better do something or I'll fucking-”

But he didn't need to find a creative threat, thank fuck, because Ian was already pulling his finger out, and for an instant Mickey hoped he would take the beads out and start fucking Mickey already, because he felt a little unhinged and fucking would be familiar and safe. 

But Ian didn’t, and instead there was another bead pushing inside of Mickey. He groaned, dropping his head further so Ian couldn’t see his face, then opened his legs more and just let the thing slip right inside of him, the same second of unbearable stretch and then the maddening clench of his hole around nothing. 

Mickey couldn't take it anymore.

“Alright, fuck, enough,” he barked, and Ian stilled behind him.

“Fuck, are you-”

“Get those fucking things out of me and give me your fucking dick,” Mickey barked, and he could hear Ian scramble behind him, probably grabbing the condom and lube and getting ready, but of course he couldn't fuck Mickey right away. He had to get the beads out first, and it was fucking _torture_ how slow he was pulling them out. 

Mickey could feel the steady pull and drag inside of him, and he had to grab his own dick and give himself a vicious squeeze or he would have probably come just from that. His face felt hotter than ever, and he couldn't contain a moan at the noise it made, the slow squelch and “pop pop pop pop” of them all coming out of his ass. 

That noise was nothing compared to the one that escaped his mouth when Ian pushed in, though, but he didn't fucking care because fuck _yes_ , this was it, just what he needed. Ian's dick was finally stretching him and keeping him open, rubbing him in all the right ways, and it was so fucking satisfying it made his fingers clench tighter into the sheets. 

Mickey was probably looser than usual because Ian didn't need to start slow, he just gripped Mickey's hips and fucking went at him, grunting like he was about to come already. 

Mickey hoped he would, because he didn't know how if he’d be able to keep taking it after he came, which was going to be right the second someone put a hand even close to his dick. 

He felt Ian speed up even more and then felt him still with a groan, hips flush against Mickey’s ass, hands punishingly tight against his hips. That was it, Mickey gave up and reached between his legs and shot over his own hand the moment he touched himself, gasping like he was suddenly drowning in air, the clench of his hole around Ian's dick sending shivers all through him and tearing one last moan out of Ian, too.

Fucking hell. Sometimes Mickey had the best fucking ideas. 

He arched his back a little and felt Ian's hand rest against the middle of it, and then Ian started pulling out, which was a whole new kind of agony. 

Mickey's hole felt tender and used. It didn't stop throbbing when he sprawled onto his back, still breathing hard. He nudged the beads with his foot until they fell to the floor with a couple loud thuds.

“So that floated your boat, eh Gallagher?” he chuckled, accepting the lit cigarette Ian was handing him already. How the kid moved so fast after getting off was a goddamn mystery to Mickey. 

“Yeah?” Ian shot back. “What gave you that impression?”

“Oh, just the way you couldn't last more than two minutes on your second round,” Mickey answered. 

Ian elbowed him in the ribs, and Mickey answered in kind, and they wrestled for a minute, until Mickey was on top of Ian – more because Ian let him than because of any superior skill or strength on his part, which didn't actually sting as much as it used to. He looked down at Ian's smirking face.

“That face mean you’re up for a repeat sometime?”

“If you think your ass can take it,” Ian said, eyebrows raised in challenge. 

“Fuck off, you dick, you know I can take anything you'd dish out.” 

Ian's hand was crawling up the back of Mickey's thigh, but Mickey caught it in his before Ian could get closer to where he was still pulsing dully. 

“Is that so?” Ian was still smirking but there was something serious in his eyes, too. “You sure about that?”

Suddenly, Mickey wasn't sure they were talking about his ass anymore – Ian did that, sometimes, shifted the conversation on Mickey, made him think they were talking about one thing when really it was something else. 

It didn’t matter. The answer was the same anyway.

“Fuck yeah,” he said, and leaned down to give Ian a kiss. 

*

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Tumblr](http://greedydancer.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
